


wish you were here.

by DatoPotato



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Batfamily (DCU)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:13:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DatoPotato/pseuds/DatoPotato
Summary: April 27th. One of the hardest days of the year for Jason, and one that this year, he spends alone, dealing with the loss of someone else.Super short fic for Jason's death day.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	wish you were here.

He ran.

He ran until his legs went numb from the searing pain and his lungs felt as if he was breathing fire and even then, he forced his body to continue moving. He willed his legs to keep moving forward but as his knee met the floor, the rest of him soon followed. His breathing was laboured as he lay on his stomach, bringing his arm above his head in an attempt to crawl forward. And then the steps came.

They sounded, loud and clear on the hard concrete floor. Then the panic set in. 

Panic flooded his entire being, his breaths came shallow, fear causing him to involuntarily whimper which quickly changed into grunts of frustration as he dug his fingernails into the concrete in vain.

The footsteps were right behind him as he struggled unsuccessfully.

“Well, well. Where do you think you’re going?” the man behind him sneered. He could hear the grin permanently plastered on his sick face. He could feel the bile rising in his stomach as the man gripped his shoulder and turned him over. He stared up at the pale, grinning face that looked over him, the red lipstick smeared in a revolting smile and vibrant green hair, like string attached to the man’s head.

The man frowned deeply, mocking him. “Aw, come now, what’s wrong? Feeling a little... beat up?” the man asked and broke into a disturbing cackle.

“ _Please_ ,” he begged the man, “ _please don’t_.”

It wasn’t the first time. It wasn’t even the second. He had gone through this so many times, they all started to blur together. Usually, he’d at least retain enough strength to fight back, but he had nothing. He was completely helpless as he stared up at the man. He felt like he was that child again, unable to fight back, waiting for someone else to save him.

The crowbar was cold and each time it came down and connected to his body, the copper scent of blood—his blood—filled his senses. He pleaded with the psychopath to stop, to kill him already, to get it over with, but the man just kept beating him.

In the abyss beyond the two of them, he heard a faint call. A call to him.

“ _Jason_ ,” Roy’s voice was clear as he began to wake from his nightmare. “ _Jaybird_.”

“Roy?” Jason shook his head to help wake himself up. As Jason came to, the realization hit him. “Roy!” he shouted.

As his vision cleared, he saw. He saw he was alone in his room. Roy was gone. He had been for a while, Jason knew that. It just... hurt. 

He felt his face numb as a familiar stinging sensation started in his nose. Jason scrunched his nose in a weak attempt at delaying the tears. It didn’t work and soon enough, they came. 

After Jason’s face was sufficiently red and raw, he stood up and put clothes on even though it was still pitch black outside the safe house. He thought it’d be nice to clear his head, maybe go for a run. 

Jason soon found himself drawn towards the last place he wanted to be, yet it was probably where he needed to be the most. He shoved his hands in his hoodie pocket and walked carefully down the rows of stones and flowers. When he got to Roy’s, he smiled. He scoffed and shook his head at the stupid hat that sat atop the stone.

“Hey,” he greeted, placing a gentle hand on the cool marble. Jason sat down and leaned against the tombstone as he began to tell it all the trouble he had gotten himself into since he had last visited. When he was finished, he went silent. He knew there wouldn’t be a reply, obviously. Even still, he had hope.

Jason smiled sadly as he examined his hands. “It’s hard, y’know?” he chuckled and shook his head. “Just this time of year, it gets hard. The nightmares come back and I’m constantly on alert.”

More silence.

Jason swallowed hard and his lips formed a thin line. He stood up abruptly and looked back at the letters carved into the marble. “It’s just, it’s a lot harder. Now that you’re not here.” He paused and smiled sadly at the ground, tears beginning to form again. “I really wish you were here.”


End file.
